Love Hurts
by Atari Atagashi-Chan
Summary: Justin takes a dangerous turn down the road of self worth. Brian's the only who can lead him back on track. But can he do that without screwing things up even more than they already were? AU BJ [warnings: selfmutilation, drug addiction, MAJOR Justinangst
1. PrologueTypeThing

**A/N**: Mmkay, I changed the summary and...  
I REWROTE THIS ENTIRE PROLOGUE THING...OR WHATEVER...YEAH...  
**Why?** Because I can. ...no, because, actually, I wrote the first three chapters while I didn't have internet, so...yeah. I now have a better idea of where this plot is going.**  
Disclaimer**: I don't own QAF.  
**Mature Content Warnings And Other Things You Should Be Aware Of:** Major Justin angst, bunches of dramatic fluff, self-mutilation, drug addiction/intake, lots of harsh language, excessive depression, alcohol usage, sex, ALL character POV switches,_ POSSIBLE MAJOR-CHARACTER DEATH_, and...uh...and other stuff...I guess...eh...fuck it all. You've been warned.  
**Pairing**: Brian/Justin  
**Placement**? Uh...this's totally AU...but, if you MUST know somewhere, I'd guess someplace around the...uh...maybe towards the end of the third season? Um...yeah. I guess.  
**Apologies**: Sorry for this extremely long author's note and sorry for making this so overly dramatic, but I know some people, like me, crave this kind'a shit...so...yeah. Also, sorry for the extremely long chapters to come... I didn't realize they were as long as they are. Oh, and sorry for my excessive use of the word 'yeah'...I blame Deidara...(...yeah...)  
**About Updates**: For the first chapter (Not this one, but the next one), I won't update till I get **three reviews**. For e_verything after that one_, I'll TRY to update after **five more** each time. _Normally,_ I do one update per ten or fifteen reviews, which I normally get within a week's time or so. However, QaF isn't as popular a category as I normally write in, so I lowered my standards after taking this into consideration.

* * *

**MAJOR NOTE**: You don't have to read this... The first chapter and story-line starts _AFTER _this one.

* * *

_This chapter is merely for the **skeptical**. If you're not sure you feel like reading this or whatever, well, then, read these quotes from future chapters that, in my mind, were potential summaries and, uh...see if you're interested...yeah... (These aren't exact quotes...)  
_

_  
_"Every month, on the 23rd, he comes home specifically at 1:02 in the morning with a small bag of god-knows-what and tries to hide it from me. Does he really think I'm that fucking blind? Christ.  
But, I don't ask him anything."

" "_Alright? Yeah, just fucking peachy_," Every syllable just drips with sarcasm. Then, suddenly, his voice drops back to normal. "_Fuck, Mikey, something's fucking wrong with fucking Justin..._"  
Excessive use of the word 'fuck'- one of the many signs there's something drastically wrong in the world of Brian Kinney."

" "_Tell me what _kind_ of perscription drug."_  
He doesn't say anything for a second. I take a step towards him, ready to grab him if he tries to run. But, he doesn't. I wouldn't have been able to grab him anyways for the answer he gave me shocked me enough to make my entire body freeze."

" "_Brian? Would you care if I were on drugs?_"  
"_...that depends...legal or illegal?_"  
"_Illegal._"  
Fuck...this's definitely _not _what I was expecting."

"I know Brian is either awake or soon-to-be-waking and he'll be out looking for me. I don't want to see him again. I don't even want to hear his fucking NAME again! If I don't want all these things, then why the hell do I still love him?"

"My only other choice until I get enough money to rent an apartment is to live on the streets. Alright, I'll admit it...I'm a dainty little bitch and there's no fucking way I'll even last a single day out there. But, like they always say, you can only fail if you don't try.  
A thousand and one thoughts leap to my mind and, for a second, I find myself wondering 'just who _are_ "they"?'"

"I can feel myself slowly stumbling back towards the wall. My heart is racing a mile a minute. The cold stomps of every step he takes echo along the walls of the alley and don't help me to remind myself to breath. For a minute, the incident with fucking Chris Hobbs flashes through my mind. I know that's how it's going to end this time. Only, instead of a bat, it'll be a switchblade. And instead of ending up in a hospital, I'll end up in heaven. Or, possibly, hell. Because, this time? Brian's not here to save me."


	2. Chapter One: The Beginning Of The End

**I Chapter One I  
**

**Brian's POV**

Every night, he comes home. And every night, right before going to bed, he goes into the bathroom, locks the door, and stays in there for like a split second before coming out. And every morning, he does the same thing. It's like a fucking routine. So, is it a sin that I let my curiosity get the better of me?

Brian Kinney...Curious...? Not exactly a word you'd describe me as. But, I just couldn't fucking remain blind on this one. So, I took it upon myself to follow him to the door right after he closed it and listen to whatever the fuck he does in there one night.

As I leant on the wall and listened, all I could hear was a bottle rattling with pills and a hard gulp. Then, I took a casual step back as Justin unlocked the door and went straight for the bed, not even noticing me. I raised an eyebrow, but asked no questions. That's just not my style. Whatever he's doing is fine with me. If it's illegal, fuck...I'd be a hypocrite if I were to confront him on such a thing. Which is why I lay low and just forget it all. But every night and every morning anew just tickles my curiosity even further. I don't know how much longer I'll be able to ignore it.

His mood seems to have changed a bit, I noticed. He's a bit more moody and anxious...as though he'd hiding something, which makes me suspicious. He's out while I'm at work, but I don't know where. Classes or work, maybe? But, not all the time. This has been going on for about three months. And every month, on the 23rd, he comes home at specifically 1:02 in the morning with a small bag of god-know's-what and tries to hide it from my eyes. Does he really think I'm that blind? Christ.

But, I don't ask him anything.

I never ask him anything. What good will it do? He'll just roll his eyes and say it's nothing and that I'm overreacting. Then, I'd yell at him or pin him in a corner and try to get him to talk because whence I start something I finish it no matter what it takes. And then he'd give me _that_ look that tells me to stop acting so radical and that he's totally fine even though I can distinctly tell he's not. He does that a lot when he's either stressed or just getting over one of his panic attacks. He tells me in the most gentle and mature way known to man to just fuck off. I normally do when it gets to that point. And I fucking hate that.

Which is why I don't ever question him...or anybody, for that matter.

But, tonight is different. Tonight is the 23rd of October and it's 1:01am. Tonight, my curiosity ends and so does all this bullshit he's been pulling on me. I sit on the floor taking a drag on the cigarette between my fingers. As I let smoke flow from my mouth, the clock strikes 1:02 and in walks Justin, holding that little bag between his left fist. But, there's a twist tonight, it seems.

I had this all fucking planned out. The second he walked in, I would take him down with words. I'd tell him to stop and come the fuck over here so I could see what the hell he brings home every 23rd of the month. But, when I saw him, he had something else under his arm. Two white slabs of hand-done small-scale artwork. And everything I had planned subsided into pure shock.

Justin doesn't do small scale anymore. Not after the bashing. What the fuck? That can't be Justin's work...It just can't!

But, when he puts the bag down and the two peices, I see him grab onto his right hand as his face contorts in pain.

I take a drag on the cigarette. Well, this is definitely fucked.

"Hey," I finally say something. He jumps as though I shouldn't be in my own damn loft at this hour of night. He probably thought I was sleeping. Justin turns to look at me and gives a weak smile.

"Hey," He returns lightly, dropping his hands to his sides in an attempt to give me no reason to confront him any further. But, I've already seen quite enough to have more than a few reasons to confront him now. I'm not fucking backing down. I'm no fucking pussy- I think everyone in Pittsburgh knows that. "What?" He asks innocently, his smile dropping as I get to my feet and walk to him. When I reach out to pull him to me, he takes a step back as though he's scared of me. I want to laugh that bittersweet chuckle that tells him I'm highly amused by this, but keep that to myself.

"Can't I give you a fucking hug?" I scoff. He averts his eyes as though I'm the fucking plague in human form.

"Sorry," He mumbles. Tch. As if _that's_ any comfort.

"Well? Can't I?" I ask even though I don't really want to know. I'm just biding my time to think of something to say that'll make him tell me everything with no questions asked. We both fucked my other plan up.

He looks up at me for a second, then comes at me for a hug. I just got a new plan. One that doesn't need words.

Right before he hugs me, I stop him by grabbing him by the wrist and holding his limp hand up between us. I don't say anything, but merely raise an eyebrow at him. When our eyes meet, they lock. And neither of us says anything for some time.

"Well?" I prod, stretching the word a bit in a throaty tone that tells him I'm getting impatient with his silence. It hasn't been that long, but it doesn't take long at all to get me to lose my patience with someone. He sighs.

"It's nothing. You're overreacting," He says, shaking his head. I knew it. I fucking _knew_ it. That was the denial. Now comes...

"Fuck, Justin, I'm _not_ overreacting! What the hell're you hiding!?" The yelling. Then...

"Nothing! I'm fine... would you please stop acting so radical and just drop this? I'm fine, Brian, really. I'm not hiding anything from you." The 'telling-Brian-to-fuck-off-in-the-maturist-way-known-to-man' bit. Fuck. This's where I normally back down. This's where I _always_ back down. But, not tonight.

As he yanks his wrist from my grasp, he heads around me to bed. But, I don't let him and stand directly in front of him. He gives me a look of disbeleif and steps to the right to go around me. I step to the right, too. He gives me a slight glare. His temper is rising. He steps to the left this time. I mimic him once more.

"Fuck, Brian, would you just leave me the hell alone? I told you I'm fine!" He's pissed. "Don't you trust me?" Oh, shit...Now he's fucking gonna try to send me on a guilt trip? Well, sorry, Sunshine, but it's not gonna happen. Ever.

"No." I say apathetically as I block him yet again as he tries to go around me from the right again. Why lie? I _don't_ fucking trust him. Especially when he's acting like this. We're now locked in a waltz to the rhythm of our own aggravated emotions. He steps left, I step left. He steps right, I step right. He's not getting past me.

"Brian!" He hisses. I can tell he's getting fed up with this. Well, hate to break it to you, but I am too.

"Yes?" I ask, as though I don't understand why he just yelled at me. I'm not smiling, but my tone is drizzling with sarcastic enjoyment. That just pisses him off even more.

"I said I'm fine," He growls through clenched teeth, glaring at me directly. This's what I mean about him being moody and anxious. He normally would be more mature about this. What the fuck's going on?

"No. You're not," I say simply. He looks at me, I look right back at him. We stay silent for about a full minute, neither of us blinking or looking away even once. Then, Justin breaks our locked gaze and makes a dash around me. He's quick, but not quick enough. I snag him around the belly and pull him back to me. "Wanna try that again?" I ask, my tone coming from sickeningly sweet to aggravatingly annoyed.

This isn't the Justin I know and love.

* * *

**Justin's POV**

He's got me pinned. I hate it when he does this to me... It just shows he doesn't trust me! And that makes me just want to curl up and cry. I feel his grip tighten around me. He know's something's up. _I_ know something's up. But...why provoke this any further?

"Brian, please..." I beg, not struggling at all. I hear my words come out more desperate than I thought. It doesn't surprise me, though. I tried forcing my way away from him. That obviously didn't work out. I figure that, logically, if I try a few other ways, he might just give in. "Brian..." I whimper.

"I don't have any fucking sympathy for you, so quit it," I hear him say in an undertone. He's not angry...he's just tired of this. Maybe he knew something was up sooner than tonight? Well, whatever it may be, I'm not ready to tell him.

"Please, Brian. I told you I'm fine. And I honestly am! It's just been a slightly stressful week, that's all. Why don't we go to bed..." I'm trying everything. Though that wasn't a total lie, it was a total understatement. Stressful week? Try stressful _life_... "Please."

He seems to be contemplating it. This might actually work. Maybe... I see him sigh and shake his head.

"Tell me why you drew those." Brian demands, eyes closed in agony. I'm almost confused, but then realize he's talking about the two small scale's I did. If I told him the real reason, he'd completely freak on me and I know it, even if his form of "freaking" wouldn't be like anyone elses. No, Brian has his own way of freaking out. And, in my opinion, not being able to tell what someone's thinking or feeling is a lot scarier than the yelling and screaming most people would do. Sometimes, I actually find myself wishing Brian could just be more like normal people. It'd be so much easier to read him.

"I just felt like it," I lie to him. He cocks an eyebrow.

"You haven't done that kind of work in _years_," He whispers, pulling me closer to him and whispering in my ear. I try to push back from him, but he keeps me pressed to his body. I can hear his heart beating and I feel my breath slow. I'm nervous and I know it. "Tell me the truth," He whispers. I feel his grip tighten around me. He can tell I just tensed.

"I-..." My words fade. I start to shake. Fuck... This's bad. "Brian, I'm fine," I protest unconvincingly. My voice broke midway. His grip tightens even more, helping me to slow my shivering. I want to lean into him. I want to feel comforted by him more than ever before. But, I don't.

To my surprise, I feel Brian let me go. He doesn't say anything...he doesn't look at me. He just walks around me and goes to the bed, as though nothing just happens. I stand there, blinking in pure confusion. I don't understand... Why didn't he press the questioning? No...the real question is why do I suddenly feel guilty?

"Coming?" I hear his voice from the bed, but I don't look at him.

"..."

"Justin?" When I don't answer him, I hear him sigh and the bed move while he situates himself into a sleeping position.

He's given up...for tonight.

* * *

**Michael's POV**

"Yo, Mikey."

I turn towards the casual voice after the bell to the shop sings it's tune with the door closing. I expect to see him smirking at me as usual, but he's not. Only a friend who's known him as long as I have would be able to see beneath the front he's put up. There's something wrong. I can sense it. But, I know no one else probably notices it.

"Hey," I say, giving a weak smile over the counter. He looks around as though he's actually looking for something. I think sometimes he knows that I know there's something wrong, but he wants me to say something so he can deny it and act...well...like Brian Kinney would act. My smile fades as his eyes suddenly drift to mine, expecting me to ask him what's wrong. I don't think he realizes he does that. Nevertheless, I play along. "Brian? You alright?" I ask after a bit of silence. He looks at me with that fake 'I-never-expected-you-to-ask-me-something-like-that' stare and leans on the counter. He sighs and scoffs a sarcastic laugh in spite of himself.

"Alright? Yeah, just fucking peachy," Every syllable just drips with sarcasm. Then, his voice drops back to normal. "Fuck, Mikey...Something's fucking wrong with fucking Justin..."

Excessive use of the word 'fuck'- one of the many signs there's something desperately wrong, even if Brian won't admit it to be that big of a problem. He _never_ admits anything to be a big problem.

"Justin? What's going on? You two have a fight?" I ask. He shakes his head.

"No...well...kind of..." He sighs in aggravation and looks right at me. "I think Justin's on drugs."

"What!?" Okay, that was...wow. _Really _not what I was expecting. I thought, as usual, this would be all Brian's fault. But, my God... "Brian, why the hell would you think-"

"Because of how he's been fucking acting."

I just stare at him in disbeleif. I can't believe what I'm hearing. 'Justin' and 'drugs' just don't go together. But, before I can ask anything else, I hear Brian mumble something about Lindsay and walk towards the door. Which was when I closed up early and ran straight over to the Diner's.

* * *

**Debbie's POV**

"Hey, Sweety," I chime as I see my son waltz through the doors. Somethings off as he smiles to me. "Alright, what's wrong?" I ask directly, coming around the counter. His brow furrows above his smile.

"Wrong?" He asks, as though he thinks I don't know. I take his face in my hands and give him a good slap on the cheek.

"I know when something's wrong with my son and don't think I don't. Now, you're gonna tell me what's wrong." I demand.

"Where's Justin?" He asks me innocently after sighing impatiently.

"Jesus, would you quit avoiding the question?" I ask. When he doesn't answer, I roll my eyes and release him. "Back there," I say, pointing not far behind the counter.

* * *

**Michael's POV**

I feel my mom let me go and walk around behind her, looking to where she had just pointed. I see a head of blonde pop around the corner, looking perfectly normal.

"Justin," I call, sounding a bit different than myself. He looks over and, when he sees me, flashes a smile and continues towards the cash register. I follow him from the other side of the counter. "Do you have a minute?" I ask.

He looks up to me as though I had just asked him to have sex with me. His brow furrows, but he goes right back to work.

"Sorry, Michael, but I've got a lot to-"

"Just for a second," I plead. He looks back to me again. His crystal blue eyes search me up and down. He looks a bit apprehensive. Then again, me and Justin don't really "click" like a condom and a penis, if you catch my drift. He sighs and shrugs.

"Alright..." He says slowly, putting down everything and coming to me. "What?" He asks, trying to hide his apathetic tone. I roll my eyes.

"Look. I just want an honest answer from you. It'll only take a second. But, you've gotta promise me you're gonna tell me the truth," I say. I know it won't help if he really is on some kind of drug, but it just gives me a bit of reassurance. His brow furrows once more.

"Uh, okay...I guess," He says, shrugging once more. I take a deep breath and gain my confidence.

"Are you on drugs?" I ask straight out. His mouth drops wide open. He gives me the biggest look of disbeleif I've ever seen.

"Excuse me?" He asks, laughing. "Drugs? Michael, where the hell did you hear that?" He asks me. I debate for a second whether I should tell him the truth or not. I realize, though, that if I lie here, it could screw everything up.

"Brian," I answer. His laughing stops and his smile drops.

"Brian?" He asks me surprisedly. I nod.

"Yeah. He thinks you're on drugs."

His brow furrows for the third time today. He looks like he can't believe what he's hearing. Maybe Brian was wrong...Then again, maybe Justin's just acting. But, this really doesn't look like acting. I may not get along with Justin as well as the next guy, but I know him well enough to get a good idea of when he's lieing and when he's not. And, right now, he looks like he's not.

"Justin, wait!" I call suddenly, noticing for the first time that he's headed around the counter and for the door. I hear my mom call 'Sunshine?' in a confused voice and that's when he walks right out on the job.

"What the hell just happened!?" Mom asks. I shake my head. Looks like I'll have to explain everything to her...Great.

* * *

**Justin's POV**

I can't believe Brian would think something like that! I honestly can't even imagine why! Do I look like the kind of person who'd be an addict? Christ, what the hell's gotten into him?

"Brian!" I call as I approach the door. My tone sounds a bit more pissed than I imagined it sounding, but I don't take any more notice than that. "Brian!" I demand again as I pull on the handle. The door slides to the right and I walk inside, not even shutting it behind me. "Hey!" I yell, looking around for him. To my surprise, he's not here. But, where the hell could he be? Perfect. Just fucking perfect.

* * *

**Lindsay's POV**

I hear the doorbell ring and giggle into Mel's stomach, which I've been massaging with my tongue. She smiles at me and whisper's 'I'll get it' in my ear. So, I roll off her and onto the fluffy bed, watching as she pulls a bathrobe over herself. I love watching her dress and undress. There's just something sexy about it that I just can never put my finger on. She gives me a wink before walking out of the bedroom and down the stairs to the door. I relax and wait.

"Linds!" I hear from downstairs. Mel sounds slightly pissed. I have a feeling it must be Brian, so I sigh and pull a bathrobe around myself and come downstairs. Sure enough, Brian's standing in the doorway. Mel immediately goes into the living room to leave us alone.

"Hello," I greet, wondering why he's here.

"Hey," He responds, closing the front door behind him. It looks like he's not going to tell me why he's here after all...

"What's the occasion?" I ask, laughing. Whenever I get done playing with Melanie, it just puts me in a lighthearted mood. I can't help it. He rolls his eyes.

"You two having fun up there?" He asks in a low tone, looking up the stairs. I smile and give him that fake 'I-am-so-offended!' tone when I answer.

"Oh, would you quit interfereing with our personal lives?" I laugh.

"PLEASE!" I hear Mel growl from the living room. Brian and I both roll our eyes. I don't think she'll ever get over that.

"So, really..." I start again. "What're you here for?" I see him sigh and shrug.

"Just thought I'd drop by," He says in that mellow tone that tells me he's not here for a pleasure visit no matter what he said.

"What's wrong?" I ask, adding concern into my voice. He gives me this look of disbeleif.

"Why the hell does every-fucking-body think there's something wrong?" He asks me, sounding a bit tweeked. I wince at his sharp tone.

"I'm sorry," I say. "I just thought-"

"Well, you thought wrong," He says. That's when I know something's up. I also know he definitely doesn't want to talk about it.

"Okay," I respond in a small voice. It's quiet for a little bit. I'm still curious as to why he's here, but I don't want to provoke him any further. After a bit, he shakes his head, pokes his tongue into his cheek, and rumages in his coat pocket for something. I stare as he pulls a peice of paper out, suddenly realizing it's that time of month.

"Here," He says in a whisper as to not let Melanie hear. I look at the paper. It's a check- for $1,000. I shake my head.

"I don't need it this time," I say. Now that Mel and I have a healthy income we don't need his "secret" help anymore. "You don't need to help us out anymore." He doesn't push the issue and, like the selfish bastard he is, rips the check up and looks at me.

"Alright. If that's what you want," He says. I nod and kiss him on the cheek.

"That's what I want," I whisper lovingly.

"Ahem," I hear and look over to see Melanie leaning on the frame of the arch to our living room. I smile at her and she shakes her head.

"I'll just be going then," Brian says nonchalantly, and turns to open the door. Right as the knob turns and door swings open, a fist that was going to be knocking on the wood of the door comes to knock on Brian's chest.

I look around Brian to see who it is and recognize that blonde hair immediately.

Justin.

* * *

**Brian's POV**

Fuck. He found me...

"Well, if you just stand there I have no way of getting home," I say, implying that he's in my way.

"Drugs?" He asks me right away, eyes locked on mine in a pertubed fury. I raise an eyebrow.

"Drugs?" I repeat.

"You know what the fuck I'm talking about!" He scoffs angrily. I really don't...

"No...I don't," I say truthfully. He looks like he's about to fucking cry, but is too angry to do it.

"Brian, you told Michael I was on drugs!" He screams at me. Oh, shit. I forgot to tell Mikey not to tell Justin. Fuck.

"No, I told him that I _thought_ you were on drugs," I correct. I feel Lindsay and Melanie breathing down my neck.

"You thought _what_!? You asshole!" Melanie explodes. I try to explain, but Lindsay cuts me off.

"Why the hell would you think that?" She says in that accusing motherly tone. I sigh. I know they're not done, but I'm not gonna let them continue.

"Alright, alright, _enough_!" I yell, stopping everyone. They all get quiet. I turn to Mel and Linds. "This's our problem. Fuck off." I tell them, turning back to Justin and pushing him backwards out the door frame and slamming the door shut in both of their faces. I know they won't come after us, but the next time I see them things are going to be testy. However, right now, I don't care. I push Justin up against the side of the house. He's still glaring at me, trying to hold back tears. "What? If you wanna cry, then fucking cry," I tell him, not dropping the gaze. He shakes his head.

"Fuck, Brian, just tell me why you'd think that," He says, his voice no longer flowing with anger, but with weakness. I sigh in aggravation.

"I heard you," I say, not explaining myself. I know he won't understand. When his brow furrows, I roll my eyes. "If you're not on drugs, then what kind of pills are you taking every fucking morning and every fucking night?" I immediately feel his body tense and I know now that he didn't know I knew. His glare that turned to a look of concern turns now to a look of defeat. He purses his lips. He won't tell me. "Justin?" I ask. He pulls away from my grip, but I don't pursue him. I know he's not going to run away from me. He stops a little way from me, but doesn't turn back.

"It's nothing," He says.

"Bullshit," I growl, walking towards him. I hear him sigh. He's definitely aggravated.

"It's a perscription drug, there's nothing to worry about, alright?" He says in a small voice. I stop.

"A perscription drug?" I ask, surprised. The only perscription drugs he's on is those pain killers for his hand. But, this's new. When he says nothing, I narrow my eyes and fill the gap with my own voice. "What _kind_ of perscription drugs?" I ask suspiciously. He turns to me and I can see he's getting impatient.

"The kind that the doctors give you," He says sarcastically. "Geez, Brian, would you just lay off it?" He asks. I look at him incredulously.

"No, I will not. Now tell me what kind, dammit," I hiss. He shakes his head and turns to go. I'm quicker than that and grab him by the wrist, squeezing. I see him wince and let up slightly.

"Let me go," He growls, turned away from me once more. I roll my eyes.

"Tell me what _kind_ of perscription drug and I'll let you go. Okay?" I try to compromise.

It's silent for near to a full minute. But, I don't push the answer. I know he needs time.

"Let me go and I'll tell you," He asks silently. I think about this for a moment. When I realize he's not going to tell me unless I do, I let his wrist drop.

"Alright. You're free. Now fucking tell me," I demand. I see a shiver go down his spine and can just feel him gulp. "Well?" I pursue.

He doesn't say anything for a second. I take a step towards him, ready to grab him if he tries to run. But, he doesn't. I wouldn't have been able to grab him anyways. The answer he gave me shocked me enough to make my entire body freeze.

"Anti-depressants."

**- TBC (To Be Continued) -**


	3. Chapter Two: Fact or Fiction?

**II Chapter Two II  
**

**Daphne's POV**

"You've gotta go back to him sometime..." I say, handing Justin a bowl of popcorn as I sit down on the couch next to him. He's been living with me for nearly three days now. No matter how far we've grown apart in the past, we're always willing to lend each other a hand. I watch silently as he ignores me and dives right into the bowl. I sigh and relax into the couch, turning on the tv.

"Yeah, I will," He says suddenly. I look over at him.

"When?" I ask.

"I dunno," He says and takes another handful. "Maybe tomorrow..."

"Tomorrow?" I laugh. "Yeah, right..." He looks over at me smiling.

"I'm being serious, Daph," He laughs back. I roll my eyes.

"Sure, sure," I taunt. He takes a handful of popcorn and I eye him. "You fucking dare throw that at me-ah!" I squeal when I feel the popcorn hit me and fall off the couch laughing. "You bastard!" I hiss, kneeling and snagging a handful of popcorn to throw at him. Justin just barely manages to dodge it and, before we know it, we're both laughing and giggling and in an all-out popcorn war.

Before too long, there's no more popcorn left in the bowl and we refrain, though the temptations were high, from using the popcorn scattered everywhere in the room as ammo. The two of us collapse side by side on the couch laughing and panting. We haven't done this since...well...since high school, really.

"You're in a better mood," I say between exaggerated breaths. It was the first I noticed this. The past two days, he's been nothing but depressed. Completely. This was the first time I had seen him smile or heard him laugh since he's been with me.

"Yeah," He says between the same exaggerated breaths I'm taking. He laughs. "I guess I just needed to get away from him," He says. My smile fades.

"Justin..." I start. I really don't believe that. I don't know what's made his mood change, but it's not getting away from Brian. It's just...not. His smile drops, too, as he looks over at me.

"Daph, c'mon," He says. I roll my eyes and lay off it. After a while, I hear him mumble something to me.

"Huh?" I ask.

"I said, thanks. ...for everything," He says, giving me a lopsided smile. I smile back and lean on his shoulder. The two of us take a big breath and let it out in exhaustion. I feel him put his arm around me and look up at him.

We don't say anything, but just snuggle a bit.

"I guess we'd better clean this up, huh?" I say, looking around the popcorn-blanketed room. Justin laughs.

"Yeah, we'd better," He replies and the two of us get up off the couch and start picking up the popcorn. During that, we got to talking- just to forget everything. We talk about all the good times we had in the past. All our high school memories when it was just the two of us. We got so consumed, that we didn't even hear the knock on the door, the opening of the door, or even the 'click' of the closing of the door. We didn't even notice anything until we heard a clearing of a throat. Both of us looked up. And that's when we saw Brian- standing there looking on as though amused.

* * *

**Brian's POV**

I look at the two of them and just stare, a cocky smile on my face. They both seemed to be stunned to see me. Tch. Is it such a surprise that I show up unnanounced after not seeing the fucking love of my life for nearly three fucking days in a fucking row? Christ.

Daphne gets up to leave us alone, but I stop her.

"Oh, no, don't stop on my account..." I say, smirk still on my face. She stops, looks back at Justin, and watches as he purses his lips. The two stay completely silent. Truth be told, I enjoyed just watching and listening to the two of them. It was the first time I had seen Justin even slightly happy, even if it was fake, in the past three or four months. And at the first sight of me, his happiness dropped right back to 'depressed' on the meter. I'm the cause of a lot of people's fucking misery. But, normally not Justin's. I haven't done anything wrong this time. Which is why it kind of pisses me off.

I see Daphne look back to me with...wait...is that an expression of pain or anger? I can't rightfully tell. But, why would she be angry at me? Fuck.

She doesn't say anything, but shakes her head and, before I can do anything, she goes off into the other room and shuts the door. Now it's just me and Justin.

Alone.

My smile drops and so does my courage. Neither of us say anything for quite some time and the only movement between the two of us is Justin twirling his thumbs.

"Well?" I hear a small voice say. It's angry, but nervous. Justin still isn't looking at me.

"Well what?" I respond. When he says nothing, I exhale a bit impatiently. "Look. I didn't come to fucking kidnap you. I just came to ask you why the fuck you left me this time," I'm not one for many words. But, I'd really like to tell him that I didn't fucking do anything. At least, not anything that I can think of.

He, still, says nothing. And he, still, won't make eye contact.

"Fuck, Justin, at least fucking say something," I demand. He shakes his head. This is getting a bit annoying. I have a good idea of why he fucking left me, but I want to hear it for myself from his own voice. "Well?" I make my voice more prominent. He finally looks up to me. I expected to see him glaring at me or crying, but he looks neither angry nor depressed. He looks blank. Completely emotionless. For the first time, I can't tell what the hell he's thinking. And, for the first time, I feel the slightest bit of intimidation. "Justin?" I ask in the soft gentle voice I use with Gus.

"What do you want me to say?" He asks in a voice that's barely a whisper.

Perfect. He just fucking turned this entire thing around on me. That bitch. That's when I cave.

"Fuck, Justin, I don't care if you're on anti-depressents!" I say, without thinking. "I'm just fucking pissed that you're trying to fucking hide all this from me!" I yell. If he's by any way startled by my reaction, I can't tell because he doesn't move and his expression doesn't even flinch.

"That's not the reason I left you," He says simply. I blink.

"It's not?"

"No."

"Then...what is?"

He stops and looks around- not nervously, but just to have something to do. My brow furrows in a mix of confusion and the upcoming headache I know will arrive any minute if he doesn't stop fucking messing with me.

"Brian?"

"Yes?"

"You don't care if I'm on anti-depressents?"

"No."

"Would you care if I was on drugs?"

"That depends, legal or illegal?"

"Illegal."

Fuck. This was not what I was expecting. So, he is on drugs? Then, where the fuck does he have them all? It's not that I care if he's _on_ drugs. I've taken plenty of my share. All I care is if he's _addicted_ to drugs.

"Not exactly," I say. For the first time today, I see an expression that mirrors my own on his face; pure confusion.

"Not exactly?" He asks, mimicing my words.

"No."

"What do you mean 'not exactly'?"

"I mean I don't care if you're on illegal drugs."

"..." Justin opens his mouth to say something, but then closes it and gives me and even stronger look of confusion. "Then your answer would be 'no', right?" He asks slowly, as though having to think if every word is right or not. I shake my head.

"No...My answer would be 'not exactly'," I say, confusing him even more.

"Brian..." He says in _that_ tone. I roll my eyes and give in.

"I'd only fucking care if you were a fucking addict," I admit.

"And if I was?"

"Then I'd care," I say, not exactly catching what he's actually trying to ask me.

"No," He says, shaking his head. "I mean, what would you do," He corrects.

"Well, I'd-" I stop, suddenly realizing I don't know what I'd do. "...I don't know...Probably try to forget about it and hope to fucking hell you check yourself into rehab...why? Are you an addict?"

"No," He shrugs. "I was just wondering."

You don't "just wonder", Sunshine. You don't "just wonder".

* * *

**Emmett's POV**

I'm staring at him- just in awe. I don't think I've ever seen Brian drink this much before. Like..._ever_.

"Brian?" I ask, raising my voice so he can hear me. We're both sitting at the bar in Babylon where the music's blasting. "You okay, sweetie?" I put a hand on his shoulder as he downs his ump-teenth shot of God-know's-what.

"Hey, Em?" He says in a drunken slur. I raise an eyebrow.

"Yeah?"

"What'd ya do to get Ted into rehab?" He asks. It almost makes my heart stop. He know's how I am about reliving those days...those dark unfabulous day.

"Nothing," I reply truthfully. I can't really think of anything I did. I'd never force Teddy into rehab. No matter what. "He just went on his own one day." He nods and takes another shot. I watch him for a while, before I get a bit worried. "Why do you ask?" He looks up at me under drooping eyelids as though surprised to see me here.

"Huh?" He mumbles.

"I said, why do you ask?" I say, rolling my eyes. He lets out a big sigh.

"No fucking reason," He mutters. I guess even when completely intoxicated, Brian Kinney still manages to keep people out of his personal life. So, I butt out and stay silent for a little, leaning back on the counter and watching everyone as they dance away, oblivious to the trouble going on in the world. I love that feeling.

I think about this entire situation for a while. Why would Brian ask me about that? It doesn't take me long to think of the one most obvious reason and confront him on it.

"Brian, is Justin on drugs?" I ask. It seems totally absurd, but it's the only logical explanation. Or...wait, wait! "Is Michael on drugs?" I ask. He looks at me like I'm insane, then laughs. I blink. Maybe...maybe I was wrong?

"Michael?" He asks me in a tone of bisbeleif. I can feel my brow furrow.

"Well...I figured it was either Justin or-" I stop. At the mention of Justin, his expression drops and I suddenly understand. "It's Justin, isn't it? Justin's having the same problem as Teddy had...isn't he?" I ask, my voice dropping to even more depressive than before. I don't like to hear my voice that way- or _anyone's _voice for that matter. It's just, well...for lack of better adjective, depressing, y'know? But, the look Brian gives me beats every depressive tone I've ever heard of.

"Hm..." He shakes his head. I don't know if that means yes or no at this point.

"...Brian," I say slowly, my tone getting more serious than before to match the matter at hand. "If you need to talk to someone, I'm right here." He looks up at me and scoffs.

"So, whaddo I do to get Justin some help?" He asks. So...it _is_ Justin. I'm sure, though, Brian wouldn't be telling me this if he was in any way, shape, or form sober.

"Well..." I say, trying to think. I remember thinking about this a lot when Teddy was having problems. I remember thinking about nearly a hundred different ways to get him to cooperate with me. But, none of them worked- at least none that I can remember. "Have you tried talking to him?" I start off with the most stereotypical answer. He thinks for a bit.

"Yes...no..." A small pause. "Kind of," He says after a little bit. I purse my lips.

"Kind of?" I ask. He nods.

"Mmhmm. Not really, no...no, not really...Well, I guess...kind of...Fuck, Em, I dunno..." He spouts. Now I'm sure he's not exactly in his right state of mind. He doesn't know what he's saying. I figure this is going to get us no where and give up.

"Well, then try talking to him about it... It might help," I say tenderly, giving a weak smile. I know what it's like to be in Brian's position right now. I know the pain of having a loved one suffer and being able to do nothing about it. No one should have to go through that.

Not even the biggest asshole on Liberty Ave.

* * *

**Justin's POV**

I'm back in the loft. Somehow, Daphne convinced me to go back to him. Don't ask me how- sometimes she can just make me do things that no one else can.

I don't know why I asked Brian those questions earlier today. I'm not on drugs. That's just not my style. Sure, I'll take a bit of crystal if Brian offers me some, but not enough to get me high or anything; just enough to "satisfy", if you catch my drift. Besides, drugs would ruin everything I've worked for. I'm not gonna screw all that up.

I'm laying on the floor by the couch and staring up at the ceiling. Y'know, with all the money Brian had when he got this place, he could've done something a bit nicer with the ceiling. It's so...bland and boring. The artist inside me just itches to paint or draw something on it. It makes me anxious, almost. It's a strange feeling I'm sure not many people would understand.

I hear the door open suddenly with a bang and jump at the sound. I wasn't expecting such a rough entrance. I expect to see Brian walking in with some trick or by his lonesome, but I'm surprised to see Emmett supporting the drunkest Brian I've ever seen to get to the bed. I hear Brian mumbling something, but the slurring of his words is so bad I can't comprehend it. Emmett brings him over to the bed and settles him in it. It's a bit amusing to see him tuck Brian in as though he were his mother and give him a light kiss on the forehead. I almost crack a smile.

When Emmett turns and sees me by the couch, he doesn't smile warmly at me like he normally does. His lips part slightly in what seems to be an awkward pre-question. I blink and look around me, then back to Emmett.

"What happened to Brian?" I ask, trying to break the tension between us. Emmett purses his lips and struts over to a reasonable distance to talk.

"Well..." He says slowly, raising both eyebrows. "That would be..." He stops and sighs, looking a bit concerned at me. "He's worried about you," He says suddenly after a short pause. I freeze. Brian Kinney... worried? About..._me_?

"But..." I'm so confused all of a sudden. He said... "He said he didn't care that I was on anti-depressents," I say absentmindedly, trying to sort everything out in my head. I'm immediately surprised to see Emmett's eyes widen, as though in shock.

"He..." Emmett starts. "He never said anything about you being on anti-depressents..." He says slowly. I bite my lower lip.

"O-oh..." I stutter, feeling that tingle of nervousness spread through me. I never meant to tell anyone that other than Brian.

"Are...are you?" He asks suddenly in a stunned voice. I let my eyes dart to the side and take an unusual interest in the ladybug struggling to climb up the wall.

"Yeah," I shrug. I feel Emmett's gaze on me. I suddenly look back up to him, remembering the matter at hand. "Why's Brian worried about me?" Now it's Emmett's turn to avoid eye contact.

"Well..." He starts again. "That would be the fact that you're doing something you shouldn't be," He says. I feel my confusion rising.

"'Something I shouldn't be'?" I ask. He looks at me and our eyes lock. He's giving off the vibes that I _should_ know the answer to this.

"The..." He purses his lips and stays silent for a second. "...the drugs," He finally says. I feel a wave of relaxation sweep over me and a wave of sickening surprise hit me simultaneously.

"Drugs?" I laugh disbeleivingly. "I'm not on drugs," I say, an awkward smile spread across my face. Emmett stares at me.

"You're not?"

"No..."

Emmett gives me a look, then shakes his head. With a sigh, he turns and walks towards the door before I can question him any further. Whence he's out, he pauses.

"Denial ain't just a river in Egypt, sweetheart," He whispers slowly before closing the door. I can just feel the smile slide off my face.

Denial?


End file.
